Toby was almost beside himself with consternation when Bourne and Vercoe
turned up at the Courts in the afternoon.
"Your 'ands, Mr. Bourne, and your eye! What have you been a-doing of?"
"I have had the painful necessity to thrash a cad, Toby."
"But you did thrash him, sir?"
"I fancy so," said Bourne, grimly.
Jack went home in the evening a sadder and wiser boy. When he saw his
brother's closed eye and swollen lip, and the angry patches on his
cheeks, he was cut to the heart; he took his thrashing like a man, and,
when all was over, felt he loved and respected his brother more than
ever. "What a beastly little pig I've been," he said to himself.
Vercoe and Bourne were the victorious finalists at Kensington in the
rackets. It was, as the papers aptly remarked, "Quite a coincidence that
Bourne's right eye was beautifully and variously decorated in honour of
the occasion."
I don't expect many finalists, at rackets anyhow, turn up with black
eyes.
CHAPTER XXVI
THE MADNESS OF W.E. GRIM
Grim and Wilson had come back to St. Amory's firmly convinced that
Biffen's was the most glorious house that had ever existed, and that it
would do--thanks to Acton, Worcester, and the dervishes--great things
when the cricket housers came round.
"Grimmy," said Wilson, "you'll have to try to get into the team this
year. You would last, if your batting hadn't been so rotten."
"All right, old man; don't rub that in too often.
Pages:
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174